oh hey look poetry

Est-ce donc tout ce que c'est ?

Une peur pure et simple du rejet ?

Tu t'enfermes, devient prisonnière

Et tu refuses de partir pour cette guerre.

Oh oui, certains pourront te dire lâche,

Mais au fond qu'importe, tu restes fidèle à tes attaches,

Ton amour, ton amitié, tes principes mais tes craintes aussi,

Soif dévorante de contradiction dont tu voudrais pouvoir faire fi.

Ne reste que les nuits blanches où ton esprit a trop ruminé encore,

Torture que tu souhaiterais morte, mais tu n'auras pas cet heureux sort.

i. I ask him why everyone talks about love like it tastes better than it feels. Devour me, we say, swallow me whole.

ii. He is wrapped around me, limbs and limbs and limbs, if he pulls me any tighter I might suffocate. Love is consumption, he says. It fuels us, keeps our blood pumping.

iii. I want to be stuck in his throat, slathered onto the backs of his teeth and the top of his tongue, I never want him to forget the taste of me.

iv. I bury my face into his skin, inhaling, filling my lungs to maximum capacity, belly swollen and oxygen shooting straight to my dizzy brain.

v. Love is consumption, yes. But if it’s done right, nobody goes hungry.

—  love is consumption // j.d.k.